


A Bard in Kaer Morhen

by FairyMadNess



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon Ships It, Dorks in Love, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Everybody Ships It, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Getting Together, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jealous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Pining Jaskier | Dandelion, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Post-Episode: s01e08 Much More, Triss Merigold Ships It, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Ships It, everybody loves Jaskier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyMadNess/pseuds/FairyMadNess
Summary: After the battle of Soddon Hill and finding his surprise child, Geralt goes to Kaer Morhen to spend the winter and protect his company. What a surprise is he going to get when he finds he is not the only witcher who picked up strays and brought them to safety from the on-going war. Or that said person is so being so praised and spoilt by his brothers.He does care. He is happy for him. He is.......Hm.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Coën & Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 20
Kudos: 224





	1. All Party Members are Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first Witcher fic, so please be nice! I never had enough money to buy the games (I still don't) but I really got into the fandom when I watched the series! I re-visited it a few days ago and I couldn't get this idea out of my head!  
> I doubt I will write another fic, not until I get enough to buy the book or the game, (probably the book, tho) or until the next season comes out.  
> Sorry if this is too OCC, I tried to do my best!  
> Hope you enjoy!

The scenery had turned into an icy and snowy deadland in what seemed like a blink of an eye. The travellers, a man with hair as white as the snow surrounding them, a girl who had been through hell and was still standing and two mages, one hurt and the other healing them. They had all come from a worse place though. 

Sodden Hill had become a graveyard after the battle between Nilfgard and the mages. The reinforcements of king Foltest were keeping the attacking kingdom at bay, but it wouldn't last for long. People would say it was destiny that Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, was near to help the last surviving mages of the battle, but he only called it luck. Whether it was good or bad was yet to be decided. He had only been travelling with his Surprise child for less than 48hs when he came across a middle-aged woman and the mage from Temeria carrying an unconscious Yennifer. 

Triss was wounded too, but it wasn't fatal, and while the two looked as if they were seconds from dropping to the ground, they were still holding on. The middle-aged woman, Tissaia de Vries, explained everything that was going on once they were on safer grounds.

She told him about the war and the decision The Chapter had come upon, along with their little resistance and then asked for him to take the two younger mages with him. She had clearly noticed the girl with him was Princess Cirilla, the lioness cub of Cintra, and that he was protecting her. He accepted, but only because he didn't have a choice. Even if Yennifer had left him, the two were still bonded thanks to the Djinn and Triss had saved his life back on Temeria. He owned them both.

The rectress didn't join them. (Not that he would let her). She said something about drawing the attention away from her pupils. Since they were more powerful and younger than her, and therefore played a more important role in the war than her, she would sacrifice being followed and found (and whatever came after that) to give them more time to escape the war. Geralt suspected there was more to it than that, but it didn't seem to be his place to say that.

After farewells' were said between Triss and the rectress (and the unconscious Yennifer), the four made their way towards Kaer Morhen. Yennifer rode on top of Roach, Ciri and Tress by her side and him at the front, leading and protecting at the same time. Yennifer didn't wake up until a week after they set off and it took them another two weeks to arrive at witcher school.

When she woke up, both Tris and him had to physically stop her from going back to Tissaia's side. They were setting camp in the woods when she sat up from the floor with a start. Ciri, who was closest to her, got quite a fright and a scratch, when she tried to calm the sorceress. They somehow got her soothed enough to listen to them and explain the plan for the time being. The kingdoms of the continent that weren't under Nilfgards' reign were holding their forces back, so until she and Triss were ready to join the battlefield once more, they were to stay with the witcher. He would take them to Kaer Morhen, a place filled with witchers during the winter, a place which Nilfgard would have to be crazy to attack. Once the two mages were fine, they were free to leave. Cirilla would stay with him up in the north until there wasn't a bounty on her head anymore or she could protect herself, whichever happened first.

They continued their journey the next day, although the air around them was a little tense. The first-week Ciri and Triss had talked lightly about trivial things, but with Yen now awake things had turned awkward. It surprised Geralt that the purple-eyed woman was not angry at him, or at least not showing it. After the disastrous Dragon hunt, he imagined the next time they saw each other, she would try to slit his throat. But, alas, she still hadn't tried. Maybe she was too drained to be bothered by it. Both mentally and physically.

He was too in some way. Finding the little princess had drained him in ways he never experienced before, and the silence of the journey was weighing on him, strangely. It had never bothered him before, the quiet. But even when the tension between the women dissipated and the three chattered normally, the feeling was still there. As if something was missing. He didn't understand it. When Jaskier talked and composed whenever they had travelled, he never felt this way.

As they made their way towards his home, the three females got better acquainted. They would trade who would ride on Roach, though Ciri spent more time there. She was still gaining her strength back and this way, they could move more quickly. The two mages didn't seem to mind, as they told her stories and fables of magic and spells, the girl opened up to them, even confessing that she believes to have magic of her own. Geralt already suspected it and was planning to bring it up with her once they were in Kaer Morhen, but Yen and Triss beat him to it. They taught her how to hide it and control it so that it didn't explode, but nothing more. Magic lessons were hard when you were on the run.

Unfortunately, when the three ran out of things about themselves to talk about they moved on to talk about him. Ciri was naturally curious about the man who was now her... protector? (Yes, let's go with that. Protector) And her curiosity wasn't satisfied with his grunts and one-word responses. So when he proved fruitless, she asked the two mages. Who were too damn happy about answering her doubts, even if it was the correct answer or not. ~~(No, Yennefer, he did not snore. And, no, Triss, he was not a professional brooder.)~~ Besides, he was less than 2 feet away from them, they could at least pretend he was there, right?

By the time they arrived at the snow-covered mountains, he was all too happy to end their little journey.

"Well, look who it is, Geralt of Rivia," Vesemir greeted him with an embrace and a few strong pats in his back when they reached the gate to the fortress. "You know, for a loner, you have the most company this year," the old man jokes as he turns to his companions.

Vesemir welcomes the three females and they go inside. They make a small stop at the stables where they leave Roach before Vesemir shows them to their rooms. Geralt can see they are not the first ones to arrive, other horses have already been left there. He wondered if Eskel is already here, or Lambert. He could use their help with Ciri.

"So, is this where you were born?" Ciri asks as they walk through the old stone hallways.

"No," Geralt grunts. "This is where I was taught how to be a witcher,"

"Am I going to be taught how to be a witcher too?"

"No," he responds too fast. "You'll learn how to protect yourself, in case you need to," he says sternly. He should be more considerate with her, after everything that's been going on, but he can't help it.

"Don't worry, little one," Vesemir tells her. "You'll probably be able to do anything a witcher can. And with good timing, business has never been better for witchers!"

"Hmmm?"

"But people hate witchers, don't they?" Triss asks as confused as the rest of them.

"Well, yes, they do," Vesemir agrees. "But compared to the last century, these two last decades have been wonderful for us. Ever since the great Epic Hymns about The White Wolf, The Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia have been going around, more and more people are requesting our services. Your tales are painting us in a better light. Your little bard is making our lives easier, you should really thank that little dandelion of yours," Vesemir tells them.

"Hmmm..." if only he could. He hadn't seen or heard about Jaskier since the dragon fiasco. He had been busy, though. And after everything that had happened and had been said, he doubted ~~his~~ the bard would be happy to see him.

"Alright, this is your room ladies, right next to Geralt's," they finally arrive. "I will see if we have anything for you to wear and I'll make sure one of the boys brings you another bed. That thing might be big, but I doubt you three people would be able to sleep comfortably," Vesemir tells them as they enter the chambers.

"Oh, no, please, that won't be necessary!" Triss tells the older man.

"We won't be here long," Yenn adds after Triss.

"Nonsense! It might not be as fancy here as a royal court or some other bullshit like that, but you are guest here! If my boys bring somebody here, they are special and they will be treated as they deserve!" the man declares and then turns to the younger witcher. "Supper will be at 10, you might want to take a bath before that," he chuckles and leaves, patting his shoulder a few times.

"Hmmm,"

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geralt knocks on the door next to his chambers when it's time for dinner. Triss opens the door, letting him in. She is dressed in a simple, yet nice green dress. Probably made it herself. He doubted a place full of witchers owned something like that. When he comes inside, he sees Yen (also in a dress made by herself) braiding Ciri's hair in front of a mirror in the corner of the room. The princess, unlike the two mages, was wearing the clothes they used to give the younger witchers.

"Time for dinner," he announces. 

"We are almost done, be a little more patient," Yenn tells him without taking her eyes off her hair.

"Hmmm,"

"What could you be so excited about? Having dinner with more brooding tall men?" Triss chuckles at Yenn comment as Ciri smiles humoured.

"Hmmm."

Yennifer sighs tiredly and a few seconds later puts the hair down. "Perfect," she compliments and the three start going towards the dining hall.

Geralt, while the three mages are blissfully unaware, has been losing his mind. Coming to Kaer Morhen is supposed to be a season for him to relax and be with his brothers, but ever since he arrived he keeps getting whiffs of nostalgia. Of honey mixed with cedarwood. Of cheap fragrance and dirt. Of the sweet aroma of dandelions. It brings shivers down his spine and it makes his chest ache. It reminds him of pubs and inns and life on the Path. Of a constant melody, right by his side, commenting and praising and joking, but most importantly, never stopping.

He must be losing his mind if a place like this reminds him of the bard. The only time he had ever been here was through his words. When his brothers asked him about Toss a coin and the bard who was telling the epic stories of his adventures. He had never brought Jaskier here. At the moment, it seemed wrong to bring him to the cold and bitter snow of Kaer Morhen. So why was he smelling the bard in here? As if he was there? ~~As if Geralt had never pushed him away.~~

"Do you hear that?" Ciri interrupts his inner musing. It makes everybody stop and listen.

On the halls of what should be a cold mountain, the soft sound of strings and music catches their attention. They all rush to the source. Or Geralt rushes as the other three follow him. Because he knew that music. He had heard it be sung in pubs, heard as it manifested in a melody, heard it born from a humming. As he opens the door to the dining hall, the cold stone hallway gets filled with light and warmth. The slow singing that had once been a slight whisper, is now in full blast as his brothers, probably drunk out of their minds, sing along. Or at least try, as the only man with an instrument and tuned voice strouts on top of one of the table, strumming his lute with careful fingers as if they danced around the stings.

_"Toss a coin to your witcher,_

_O' Valley of plenty,_

_O' Valley of plenty,"_

"Is that... ?"

_'Jaskier... ?'_


	2. More than just a Witcher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter yeah!
> 
> Compared to the other one, this one is so long! It's basically double its size!
> 
> Also, I hate writing Scottish accents... I do... That being said I also love hearing it, so I had to add the only character that has it! It was hell!!
> 
> Enjoy!!!

_**"If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!"** _

Geralt's voice, his tone, the hatred in his eyes plagued his mind. It tortured him in the day and haunted him in his sleep. It made his life miserable, a living hell and an endless nightmare.

After going down the mountains and taking his things from Roach, he went on his way. He was glad not everybody was happy by his departure. When he tried to take the bag where he kept his clothes and coin Roach started fuzzing. She greeted him like she always did, knocking her nose against his shoulder, asking to be pet or for treats. She must have felt something was wrong because the moment he tried to leave, she huffed and stomped her hoof against the dirt. She didn't stop until he gave her an entire apple as a treat. He spent more time saying goodbye to her than he anticipated. He had planned to stay in another Inn and go somewhere else the next morning. But by the time the mare had been satisfied, it was pitch dark and all the rooms probably occupied.

Jaskier had three options at that moment: Travel at night towards the next town and possibly get ransacked by bandits or thieves; Camp out in the woods without ~~his witcher~~ someone to protect him, or stay the night in the room he already had and risk running into Geralt. He luckily didn't have to do any of the above. As he was nearing the town's limits, a cart stopped right by his side. It was extremely dark, so he started backing away slowly at first, until a familiar voice stopped him.

"Aye! Slinky Malinky Longlegs!" A low and heavily accented voice addresses him. From the cart, a small kid-length man jumps to the ground. "Yer the Bard from the ben," the small man with a crimson beard pointed out. "Why ain't ye with yer witcher?" Jaskier can't help but wince at the comment.

"Oh, we have... decided... to... follow separate paths, my friend," he lies. "Why aren't you at the palace? One would believe that after a feat such a defeating a dragon, you would be rewarded with the most marvellous and notorious of feasts!" he quickly changes the subject.

"Ey did, but we ain't biding," he tells the bard, his face contorting into an angry frown. "We ain't gaunnae be ye laughing stock of some honkin' scunnered king and his boggin' court! Nupties, the lot of em! We took our coin and left," Yarpen finishes spatting and then scans him with his eyes from head to toe. "Where're ye goin'? Not found an Inn?" he asks.

"No, my friend. I am simply looking for the quickest way out of this town. Just like you, I prefer the exquisites of fine company, and this place seems to be thoroughly lacking it," he explains with as much gusto as he always does. "I was just going towards the next town, settle down for a few days and see what to do next,"

"By yerself? When it's black as the Earl of Hell's waistcoat?" the dwarf questions. Jaskier was about to answer, but he is interrupted before he can utter a sound. "Tell ye whit, ye entertain us for the night and we give ye a lift?" he offers, gesturing to the cart filled with dwarfs behind him. "We willnae be worse company than the people here!"

It took a bit of convincing but he ended up accepting taking a ride with them. He would have preferred to be alone, but the dwarves, in all their abrasive and barbarian ways made for good company. They are the first to hear _"Her Sweet Kiss"_ , before its debut on the next tavern he ends up with. They laugh at it, calling him a _'Dug'_ and asking for more. He stays away from "Toss a Coin", though. It's too soon and the memory is still fresh in his mind. The small men, whenever he is not singing, chat animatedly between them and sometimes even ask him stuff and address him. It's a nice change from the constant monologuing and humming he had to do when he was with- Still, he could make without all the questions about his travels with ~~his~~ the witcher. He winces every time they ask. About the Striga in the cold kingdom, the Selkie that swallowed towns. They are all amazing stories and before, he would have talked their ears off retelling the quest to them. But now, they seem tainted. Like he had told a secret to the world, one he wasn't supposed to be part off. Yarpen must have noticed because he stopped their cart in the middle of the Path and made his men search for food while he and Jaskier looked out for their stuff and took care of the horses.

"I dinnae know whit happen' in that bin," the dwarf start telling him. "But 'member, whit's fur ye'll no go by ye. Ye'll be fine, Bard. Give it time,"

After a meal and a few more hours, they get to the gate of the town by morning. The dwarves go on their way and he finds an Inn near the towns square, he spends the last of his coin on the room, but it's worth it once he is spread on the soft covers. He feels years older than he should and it only takes a few blink for him to fall into slumber.

His dreams are amazing. Nothing has changed. He and Geralt are travelling together, side by side, like it's always been. Going from town to town, one beast after another. The witcher hunts monsters and he sings him praise. And when they are done, they go back to their room. To their home. To each other. There is no wretched witch that clouds the white-haired man's mind. No other common whore. Just them. That's all they need.

He ends up sleeping until late evening, and when he wakes up, it's like a splash of cold water. He is alone and Geralt doesn't want him by his side. He is no longer The Witchers' Bard. He won't spend his days waiting for Geralt in their Inn as he finishes a contract. He won't draw him a bath after his battle to clean the blood and guts off his pristine and scar-full body. There will be no more sleepless night camping, no more ballads about Epic adventures.

When he is asked, Jaskier will lie and say that he proudly didn't waste a tear in a man that didn't know how to appreciate 20 years of friendship. He will say that he cursed the man all the way to hell and corrected everybody that dared link him with that Witcher. But in that moment, as shivers of cold recognition and loneliness climbed up his back, he poured his heart out. He wailed and sobbed in sorrow. He remembered how, a long time ago, a professor of his alma matter told him, warned him, that Heartbreak and death, where the two things nobody ever cured from. In those instances, Jaskier understood.

It was no secret to him that he loved the witcher, that he fell for the bleeding heart that was Geralt of Rivia. It was not his first time falling in love, he had done so many times. He was a bard, after all, he wore his heart on his sleeves. But before the witcher, he had just as easily fallen out of love. The longest he had been in love with somebody had been with Valdo Marx. However, those had been only 5 years of his life and he had done other things too. Once the love was gone, so was Jaskier. He hit the road and never looked back.

But with Geralt... Two decades he had followed the Witcher. Twenty-something years doing nothing but worship the ground he walked on and fell ridiculously and deeply in love with the scary-looking gentle-giant that was the Butcher of Blaviken. And what had that brought him? A couple of songs under his belt and pain. Pain loving someone who would never love him back, the pain of loving someone whose only wish in his life was to get rid of him, the pain of knowing that after everything that happened, he would never be able to regret a second he spent by the Witchers' side.

After his pity party, he took a calming bath and once he was ready, put on a happy face and went to perform to the nearest tavern. He stayed away from any of his witcher songs, but once one of the patrons recognised him, the entire pub started requesting them. He had to say yes. If not for the extra coin they gave him, but for the fear of being thrown out of the place if he refused. He stayed two days in the town.

When he had enough of the place, he went back to the Path and headed North, to Oxenfurt. The winter was approaching and it wasn't uncommon to see him in the University's classrooms during the cold months. Not to brag, but his winter classes were one of the most popular in the faculty. Valdo, when he came, would always leave fuming after hearing how much the students loved his teachings and praised his adventures. He had many times been asked to stay more permanently, but he always refused. 

There would have been a time when an offer like that would have made him overjoyed, but after twenty years he understood there was more to life than books and pages. His dream, his life goal, was to be remembered by his poems and wordmanship. For people to still remember the lyrics of his ballads even when he was gone. At first, he thought being a Court Bard of a rich king would do it, performing for the highest of courtesans and living in luxury. But as he travelled from road to road, he learnt that the words of a bard inside a palace would die in the mind of the high class. True remembrance came from inside the pubs and the roads, near a friendly fire where you can tell tales as you laugh with friends. Jaskier was sure he would be remembered after his demise. The stories of Geralt of Rivia and his loyal Bard would be told to children before they go to bed and those children will then tell them to theirs. Jaskier would live even when he was dead thanks to his songs.

In some way, he had already achieved his life-long dream. He doubted Geralt would get another bard. So, maybe, staying in Oxenfurt for more than a winter would be... nice. He would usually leave a few days before spring, to find Geralt after their months apart. The wolf always went back to his pack in Kaer Morhen. It was his home. Where he trained and rested with his brothers. Jaskier had never been there. But then again, if he was such a bother to one witcher, how would he be able to survive surrounded by more than one? They would probably gut him open and fed him to the horses.

With a destination in mind, the travesty became quicker. He didn't stay for more than a couple of days in a town and performed for coin and room. However, sometimes, his heart just wasn't in it. And as the exceptional bard that he was, Jaskier would never give a half aced performance, even if it meant sleeping in the woods. He didn't mind it. If anything it gave him time to compose more songs. They were all Ballads of Heartbreak. Of a love never returned. Of endless pinning and suffering. It was cathartic in some sort of way. He needed an outlet and singing was better than crying.

It was during one of those nights when it happened. He was strumming around, playing a few cords to find a good combination, when a roar echoed in the night. In his experience, Jaskier knew that if he heard a roar, he was supposed to either get out of the way or run and tell Geralt. But the witcher wasn't here. ~~He could be with the monster who just shrieked. The one Jaskier was close to. As if fate was pulling them together.~~

Another roar, this one with a more struggling tone, as if the monster was engaged in combat and losing. It was none of his business, really. Geralt had made it very clear he didn't want the bard anywhere near him. He should be grabbing his things and leaving before the fight escalated and caught up to him. Then there's a third roar and he is rushing towards it. He knows it's stupid. He knows it probably isn't Geralt. He knows. But he is still hopeful and he still worries about ~~his~~ the witcher.

When he finds the battlefield, he sees a man stabbing a cockatrice through the head. It's nighttime already and the full moon is the only source of light at the time. However, it is enough for him to see that the man with the silver sword is not his white-haired witcher. And it is also enough for him to see the stranger fall to his back a second after killing the beast.

Without thinking, he goes by the strangers side. He is a tall and buff individual and, wouldn't you know it, has the same silver pendant of a witcher. There is also a giant gash on one his side that is still open and leaking blood. He was still alive, judging by the rise and fall of his chest, but cockatrice must have poisoned him.

Jaskier with all the strength his flimsy arms can muster, takes him to his campsite. He had a lot of experience with patching up Geralt, so with the things he has, he makes sure the witcher doesn't die the moment he is alone and set off in wild chase. Geralt kept all his potions on Roach, and taking a guess, he believes all witchers must too. It takes him an hour to find the mare and a few minutes to take her back to the witcher. 

After that, things settle down. He gives the witcher the potion he needs and watches him through the night. This one, instead of white snowy hair, has brown short locks. He has a giant scar in his face that he wants to know the story behind and made a ballad out of. He has the wolf pendant, same as Geralt, but not the dark obscure armour. His is more colourful in a way, not as flamboyant as him, but he wears more than black leather. Jaskier can't help but fall into a familiar routine. From moment one, he's been chatting and talking to the unconscious witcher. Complaining about how heavy he was when he dragged him here, reassuring him that he was going to live to see tomorrow and pointing out the difference between him and the witcher he knows. ~~Or knew, at some point.~~

When he runs out of things to say, he takes his lute and starts strumming quietly. It's during one of his songs that the witcher comes to.

_"...Oh Lord, Oh Lord What do I do?_

_I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you,_

_He's raised on the edge of the Devil's Backbone,_

_Oh I just wanna take him home,_

_Oh I just wanna take him home..."_

"Nice song... " the compliment stops him in his tracks. The witcher was awake and had probably been listening for a while. He then tries to move out of the make-shift bed Jaskier placed him in, but grunts in pain when he tries to stand up. He places his instrument carefully on the ground before going by his side.

"No, No. None of that," he tells him and gently moves him back. "You are going to undo the stitches. Rest, I won't harm you. My name is Jaskier, what's yours?" he distracts the hurt man as he checks on his wound.

"Eskel," the witcher grunt as he winces at the pain. "What happened?" he asks as he settles down.

"I believe you were poisoned by a cockatrice," Jaskier explains as he changes the blood-soaked wrapping of the wound. "I only saw the finishing blow, but you collapsed right after. I must say, I was almost sure I lost you for a moment. I don't think a human would have survived such battle. I took the liberty to go through your potions though, I hope you don't mind, but I needed the cure for the poison," he goes off as he walks around the campsite doing stuff.

"You're Jaskier? As in Geralt's bard?" he asks and Jaskier looks down for a moment in sorrow.

"The one and only," he brags with a fake smile. "Figures that he would tell you about me. I hope it was only praises though. Are you hungry? You must be after such battle, you must be famished. I have some food left, though it's only bread, cheese and some grapes," he tries to shift the conversation away from his ex-companion.

"What did he do?" Eskel asks after a small pause.

"Who?" he feigns confusion. ~~As if he didn't know he was talking about Geralt. It was always about him. Even his mind seemed to circulate back to the white wolf at every turn.~~

"My idiot brother, Geralt," Eskel continues and takes the food he was offering him. "Knowing him, he was bound to fuck up eventually," that makes Jaskier chuckle lowly.

"We just... came to a crossroad. We are on different paths now... " he tells the witcher and sits next to him, taking his lute in his hands.

"I see..." Eskel says and takes a bite of the bread. "Was that a new ballad? Can't say I know a lot about music, but I'm pretty sure I never heard it before,"

"It's a work in progress. Though I doubt you will hear it in any tavern, people don't like sad ballads with their ale. They would rather listen to epic poems or funny parodies. Besides, the public gives me more coin if they are happy and drunk rather than depressed and drunk," he chats with the witcher. "What were you doing in these parts? A contract I suppose... but, shouldn't you be heading north? The winter is approaching and something tells me you won't skip on staying with your brothers in Kaer Morhen," he asks.

"I am heading towards the mountains, but I needed more coin for the journey. I heard about a monster terrorizing a nearby farm, stealing stock and such, so I stopped to do the hunting," he explains as he keeps eating. "I should thank you, by the way, your song makes obtaining jobs much easier. Last time I was around these part, a few 30 years ago, people searched for excuses to drive me out of tow,"

"Really? Why? Even if people didn't like witchers, I doubt they liked them more than monsters,"

"In their eyes, we were monsters too. This time though, the man that hired me, invited me to some ale first... he was a little disappointed I wasn't _the Geralt of Rivia_ , but he paid me the right amount," Eskel continuos.

"Wait, they would have paid you more if it was Geralt the one doing the monster-hunting?" Jaskier asks, genuinely surprised. "That is so unfair. I know, I'll make a song about you. An Epic poem of the adventures of Eskel, the mighty witcher. Does sound so bad if I say so myself..."

They continued talking until Jaskier had to go catch something for them to eat. Squirrel wasn't a delicacy, but it did its job on feeding them until Eskel was well enough to move. Once he was able to get on his horse, Jaskier accompanied him to get his sword and the Cockatrices feathers, which he gifted to the bard, and then to the town. The people were already thinking the witcher had died, so the one who contracted Eskel was mad he will be having to give the witcher money. It only took a few verses of Toss a coin for him to change his demeanour. 

Eskel, unlike Geralt, talked in word-form instead of communicating through grunts and curses. He was patient and polite though a little self-conscious. After receiving his money, he and Jaskier kept talking during the night in a pub before going separate ways. Which lasted about a few hours before they re-encountered in the Path. The Witcher, noticing how the bard had spent two sleepless night taking care of him and even helped him receive his coin, offered to give him a ride until to the next town. Jaskier tried to refuse, but he was cold and tired, and the horse ride nap on the witchers back was too comfortable and needed to regret it later. After that, they didn't separate.

Maybe it was Eskel's need for a companion on his travels, maybe it was Jaskier own loneliness. Maybe both, but what mattered was that they needed someone. Eskel was tired of being alone, of only having his horse as company for the long journey. Of being only a monster to others, somebody they should avoid. And Jaskier, he was tired of the emptiness as well. They both took advantage of the situation. Jaskier talked and composed and hummed, and Eskel chatted with him and gave suggestion for rhymes. True to his word, Jaskier asked about his adventures and feats to fashion him a ballad of his own. And Eskel, told him crazy narratives and was not stingy with the details. He even told him about his childhood with Geralt and Kaer Morhen.

They were at Sodden when Cintra fell.

They learnt about the last roar of the lioness of Cintra in a pub. People were afraid and fearing for what Nilfgard might do next. He didn't perform that night. The people too nervous and on edge, only drowned their sorrows in ale. Millions of question ran through their heads. Did they plan to keep attacking? Were they looking for something?

Jaskier, unfortunately, got his answer too quickly. One night, in the region of Brugge, a group of mercenaries attacked them. They were travelling, both mounted on the horse, ~~which was weird to him, Geralt would never let him ride Roach with him~~ when an arrow hit the stead in her neck and they both fell down. Eskel, even if he was hurt, would have been no match for the brutes, but he wasn't the one they were looking for.

"This isn't the witcher!" a man with big shoulders and a sword shouted as he struck into a duel with Eskel.

"What!?" another one shouted.

"He is a witcher, but not the White Wolf!"

"Leave him!" the one who must have been their leader order. "Get the Bard! He must know where the White Wolf is!"

"What!?" Jaskier cried before they all came for him. "No! I don't know where he is!"

"No matter! You will be useful to Nilfgard anyhow! Take him alive!" 

"Jaskier!"

The Mercenaries were no match for a witcher. Eskel took care of them, and they then hurried into the woods to hide. It didn't take them long to put the pieces together.

Nilfgard, after their take on Cintra, were looking for Geralt. They were probably after his child surprise and since Jaskier had been seen travelling up north with a witcher, they must have sent mercenaries after them, to make sure the child wasn't with them. Too bad they didn't know Geralt ~~was tired of him and didn't want to see him ever again~~ wasn't the witcher he was travelling with.

It took them longer to reach the next town without the horse. But once they did, Eskel bought another one. They only stay in the town to buy new transportation and Jaskier made sure to not be seen. Once they had a horse, they returned to the woods to hide.

"They are going to come back for you," Eskel breaks the silence, wording what they were thinking.

"I know, but don't worry," Jaskier begins, conjuring up plans in his mind. "I know how to stay hidden, if I avoid major cities and stick to the woods, I won't be bothered. You should head to the northern mountains now, they might attack you again if I keep accompanying you," Jaskier tells him.

"And then what?" Eskel says angry. "You'll keep hiding until Nilfgard gives up or they are defeated? No, Jaskier, I'm not leaving you. Who knows what they'll do to you if they found you!?" it's touching, but he feels guilty when he says it. ~~It's the wrong witcher. He wants Geralt to say it.~~

"But what about Kaer Morhen? You can't just NOT go!?" Eskel opens and closes his mouth, trying to think of an idea. "Eskel, I feel flattered that you would want to protect me, but I will only bring you more trouble. It's the only thing I ever bring to others... I will be fine," the witcher looks lost for a second but then, his face light up.

"Come with me!"

"What...?"

"Come with me to Kaer Morhen!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eskel is in my story now!! I love him! He is such a mother hen!!
> 
> The song Jaskier is singing is "Devil's Backbone" by the civil's wars. I heard it and the first thing my mind thought, Geraskiel!
> 
> I will do a song for Eskel, because I honestly think he deserves an epic ballad made by Jaskier! I have something in mind! But it's still in progress!
> 
> It might take me a while to update the next chapter, so sorry in advance!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!


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